One in Every Port


First in a series, followed by Meeting of Minds, by Bistokids; and then Old Habits Die Hard, also by Dorcas Gustine

"Questioning commenced at 7:02 pm," Sam said, checking his watch. "Present DCI Hunt, DI Tyler and witness--"

"Suspect," Gene cut him off.

The man in front of them raised his eyebrows and Sam rolled his eyes. "Witness William Bodie."

He laid his pen and legal pad down and leant back to observe their witness/suspect while Gene started with the questions.

"Alright, mate," he began, after a particular long drag from his cigarette. "Talk."

"What should I say?"

"Well, for starters, what were you doin' at The Mulligan's?"

"It's a pub," he replied, rather bored. "I was having a drink."

"With the dead bloke."

"Well, he wasn't dead at the time."

Sam hid a grin behind his hand, Gene growled. "Aren't you a funny chap?"

He shrugged. "I suppose."

Sam coughed and scratched his forehead, causing Gene to turn to him. "What? You got a cold, Tyler?"

"No, Guv," he shrugged. "Carry on."

"Right," Gene nodded, almost absentmindedly. "You were drinking with your mate--"

"I wouldn't call Bobby my mate. He was just somebody I used to know."

Gene nodded. "Alright, you were drinking a pint with somebody you used to know."

"That's correct."

Sam sneaked a glance at his Guv, wondering why he was behaving so unusually civilly with whom he believed was a suspect. He wasn't so stupidly optimistic as to hope he had finally decided to abandon his thuggish, 'infallible' questioning techniques.

"And I suppose it's just a chance that he got whacked right outside the pub, in the five minutes you went missing."

"I thought this was just a...'friendly chat'," the man said.

"Do I look even remotely like your friend?" Gene spat, thrusting his chin forward.

"I see," he rolled his eyes. "Should I get myself a solicitor?"

Gene just ignored him and went on. "We have three people claiming to have seen and heard you two having a row in the pub. Should I presume they're all liars?"

"I would have never alluded to his mother's line of work if I knew I was gonna be saddled with a murder accusation," apparently he was trying for nonchalance and didn't seem at all affected by Gene rapidly deteriorating mood.

Sam decided to intervene before heads started to roll around the room. He cleared his voice. "Where were you during those unaccounted five minutes, Mr. Bodie?"

"Just Bodie," he said, looking at Sam, then he raised his eyebrows. "The loo."

"And it took you five minutes?" Gene snorted.

"I always wash my hands," Bodie replied, leaning back against the chair. "Thoroughly."

Gene sniffed then, in a lighting-fast move that took Sam by surprise, he shot up and slammed his hand on the desk. "Bullshit!"

Bodie didn't seem at all fazed, he just turned to Sam, the bemused expression he'd sported since they had started still on. "I bet the thought never crosses his mind."

Sam snorted and shook his head, Bodie grinned and raised his eyebrows at him.

Gene slapped him on the shoulder. "Stop flirting with me suspect, Gladys."

Bodie raised his eyebrows. "Gladys?"

He rolled his eyes. "It's a long story."

"I'm glad you ladies have found something to discuss over your cuppa," Gene said, slamming down his hands again. "Can we go back to our matter at hand, if it's not too much trouble?"

Their suspect assumed a thoughtful face. "Hygiene tips?" he asked, tentatively.

And down went Gene's palm, and Sam wondered if it was a competition to see what would give first, his hand or the desk. While they had quite sturdy tables, the one in Lost and Found in particular, Sam had his money on Gene, especially if he went on like this.

"Did you kill him?" he asked, or rather, yelled. "Answer: yes! Case closed."

"You're alright, then," Bodie said, and he was calm.

Sam had a really bad feeling about this.

"I'm sure the judge will be lenient," Gene went on. "It's not like Bobby Loom was a saint."

Sam shot a glance at Gene. "A word, Guv," he said, leaning forward and stopping the tape recorder.

Gene glared at him, but stood up and followed him outside. "What?" he barked, as soon as the door had closed behind them.

"What are you doing?" he asked, unable to keep the bewilderment out of his voice.

Gene sniffed. "That bloke," he said, pointing with two fingers at the door. "I don't like him."

Sam rolled his eyes. "Do you actually like anybody?"

"I like Clint Eastwood," he said, Sam snorted. "And that ponce in there acts like he's a bloody cowboy."

Sam frowned. "That's a faulty syllogism."

Gene looked around, then raised his eyebrows at him. "We'll get somebody to fix it, then."

"No, it's not--" he shook his head. "You like Clint Eastwood, Bodie's acting like him. By definition you should like Bodie."

"He's as guilty as sin," Gene snorted. "And I'm not a bloody queer."

"You still like Clint Eastwood," he remarked.

"Well, he's Clint Eastwood," Gene shrugged and Sam had to concede the point.

He nodded in the direction of the Lost and Found. "What are we gonna do?"

"There's something about him..." Gene trailed off, then shook his head in a unconvinced gesture. "I don't like him."

"We've already established that."

"I really don't like him."

Sam nodded, then shrugged. "We have nothing on him, though. Oswald won't be able to perform the autopsy for at least two days. And who knows how much will it take for forensics to be done with the evidence."

Gene gave him a look. "There's no satisfying you, Gladys," he said. "So what? We'll keep him in the nick for a few days. See if his tongue doesn't loosen up a little."

"We can't do that without a valid motivation or formal accusation," he replied, shaking his head. "And as it stands, we don't have enough facts to justify either."

Gene raised his eyebrows at him. "Well, I'm certainly not gonna tell him that. Are you?"

"I don't know, Guv," he sighed. "Seems to me he knows his rights."

"They always do," Gene snorted. "I hate scum with a brain."

And on that Sam agreed wholeheartedly. He wasn't sure about Bodie, though, he seemed to be sure of himself even when a big, loud, seventies copper accused him of murder and threatened to smash his face in. Sam wondered the reason of his calm composure, but a villain? He didn't seem the type.

They remained like that for a moment, then Gene tossed the cigarette away and went back inside.

"Alright, Mister Bodie," he said, sitting down. "Since you don't seem to be in a sharing mood, I'm 'fraid we'll have to accommodate you in one of our luxury suites for the next few days."

"You can't do that," Bodie said, crossing his arms over his chest. "You have nothing on me."

"You seem so sure of yourself," Gene said, mirroring his position. "Doesn't he, DI Tyler?"

Sam frowned as the two of them turned to look at him. "Well, Guv," he sighed. "He's right, we can't keep him here."

Bodie grinned at him and Gene glared. "What side are you on, Tyler?"

"It's not like that..." he shook his head, because here they were with the whole trust thing again.

In front of them, Bodie stood up. "I'm glad we cleared that," he said. "I'll be on my way, then. Officers."

Gene stood up, as well. "I'd sit down if I were you, princess."

Bodie narrowed his eyes. "I don't think so."

Gene barked a laugh. "Did ya hear what he said?" he exclaimed, turning to Sam, then in a quick movement, he whipped his arm around and Sam could do nothing but cringe as he instinctively braced for the sound of knuckles hitting flesh.

It didn't come, though, Bodie had blocked Gene's backhander, his fingers wrapped around his wrist. "Now," he said. "That's a little excessive, don't you think?"

Oh, shit.

Sam acted quickly. He sneaked his arms under his Guv's armpits and tugged, restraining him just in time before he could launch himself at Bodie. "Guv!" he exclaimed, pulling him backwards.

As a reward, he was hit in the face by a flailing elbow. His head whipped back and hit the shelves, making him cry out and loosen his grip on Gene. The Guv shrugged him off and stormed out of the room, literally growling and leaving Sam blinking and trying to clear his head.

"You alright?" Bodie asked.

He gave a curt nod, but his vision was still bright spots.

"Somehow, I expected somebody to get a beating," he said and he sounded vaguely amused. "But I never imagined it would be you."

Sam snorted. "Apparently I'm his favourite punching ball."

"Are you," he replied, raising an eyebrow at him.

He held his gaze, but looked away after a moment, the blue eyes shining with a light, an intent that made him slightly uncomfortable.

He cleared his voice. "Right, Mr. Bodie--"

"I already told you to call me Bodie," he said with a grin. "DI Tyler."

"Okay, Bodie," he corrected himself. "While we can't keep you here, this is still an ongoing investigation, so you'll have to be at our disposal for a few days."

Bodie crossed his arms over his chest. "Well, that could be a problem."


"I don't have a place to stay," he replied, then he raised an eyebrow. "I never meant to stay more than two days, and I was hoping to find some..." he smirked, "accommodations."

Right, a regular Casanova this William Bodie was. Not that he didn't have the looks for it. He seemed to be going for the whole tall, dark and mysterious thing, as a matter of fact.

"But that bloke died and here I am."

"How insensitive of him."


When Sam went to fetch his jacket, five minutes later, Gene was perched on his desk, a deep frown on his face and his mood still darker than dark by the looks of it. "What did Billy say?" he grunted.



Sam shrugged on his jacket and rearranged the papers Gene had scattered when he had sat down. He tapped the smooth surface of the desk once, twice, then without looking up at Gene he replied. "He hasn't got a place to sleep," he raised his eyes. "He's staying with me." Gene sneered and he rolled his eyes. "I'll try to keep my virtue intact, don't worry."

His Guv snorted. "I'm not sure you have any virtue left to keep intact, Gladys."

"Right," he buttoned up his jacket. "See you tomorrow, Guv."

Gene grunted in reply.

"Tyler," he called, when he was already at the door.

He turned around and looked back, expectantly. "What?"

Gene thrust his chin forward. "Put some ice on that eye, will you?" he said, almost begrudgingly.

Sam sighed and nodded, coming from Gene that was the sincerest apology he could have hoped for.

"Good night, Guv," he called.

"Night, Tyler."

Bodie crinkled his nose and took a sip from his glass of wine. "He's a bit of an arsehole," he said. "Your DCI Hunt, I mean."

"He's..." Sam stirred the rice and frowned, trying to find a neutral enough term, "intense," he said, finally, then admitted, "sometimes he's an outright bastard, though. More often than not, actually."

Bodie snorted and downed his wine. "Oh, no. I've known all sorts of bastards in my life," he said. "And they're a whole other species. Trust me on this, Sam."

He frowned questioningly at him, but Bodie just grinned. "Refill?"

Sam nodded and held out his glass. Bodie came away from the wall where he had been leaning until now, close to the stove, and sneaked an arm around him to get to the bottle of wine next to the sink. He refilled their glasses and clinked his against Sam's, and damn if he wasn't flirting with him.

And Sam didn't know what he was supposed to do. Not that he hadn't been in a similar situation before. Not that he hadn't indulged, once or twice. But that had been thirty years in the future--well, twenty to be fair--and he wasn't exactly up to date or rather, down to date, concerning early seventies gay 'etiquette'. The only gay bloke he'd met here had been Warren, but frankly the idea of using him as a role model for his gay evening didn't appeal to him at all.

Sam cleared his throat. "So, what do you do for a living?" he asked, taking a sip of wine and putting down the glass to resume his cooking.

"Little bit of this, little bit of that," Bodie replied and smirked.

"That's kind of vague."

"I assure you, DI Tyler, that I'm a very good boy," Bodie said, but his eyes held a mischievous glint that contradicted his words.

"Oh, I most certainly doubt that."

"And maybe you should," Bodie replied, leaning forward, his chest slightly pushing into Sam's right shoulder, and when he glanced sideways at him their faces were inches apart.

He swallowed. "Dinner's ready," he said, taking the pan away from the fire and making his way back to the table. Bodie took the wine and followed him, the bottle clinking against the glasses.

"This is very good," Bodie exclaimed.

"You sound surprised."

"You are a man of many talents," Bodie said, then gave him a look. "I bet you impress all the ladies."

"Not just the ladies, apparently," he replied, and he really shouldn't be doing this, especially with a suspect in an ongoing investigation. But there was something about Bodie, a power lurking behind his calm exterior. Behind blue eyes.

"No one knows what it's like," he muttered.

Bodie frowned at him. "Sorry, what?"

He shook his head. "It's just a- Never mind."

"You should put something on that," Bodie said, tapping his cheek and nodding at him.

Sam touched his bruised face gingerly and grimaced. "It's starting to show?"

"Yep," Bodie nodded. "And it's a nice colour at that."

"I'll take your word for it," he said, then shrugged. "I'll just file it with all the other displays of affection from my Guv."

Bodie chuckled softly. "An affectionate bloke, your Guv."

"Oh, you should see all the wall-slamming," he replied and stood up, the empty wine bottle in his hand. "Fancy some more wine?"

"Why not?" Bodie replied, and the look he sent his way would have dissipated all of his doubts regarding his guest's intentions for the night, if he already hadn't gathered that from the first three times he'd accidentally brushed against him. Sam was aware this wasn't a particularly bright idea, but at the same time he couldn't seem to stop the surge of arousal every time Bodie shot him a look or touched him.

Apparently, 1973 made him gay.

Bodie suddenly materialized next to him to lay the empty plates in the sink, making Sam jump and almost drop the bottle he was trying to uncork. "Jesus! You move like a ninja!"

Bodie grinned, showing a lot of teeth. "I have many talents, as well."

"I bet," he replied, and almost dropped the wine again when Bodie moved behind him, and stood just one inch away from actually touching him.

Sam swallowed, the hair at the back of his neck standing on end, and this was moving way too fast and he still hadn't made up his mind about the whole thing. Bodie trailed his hands up his thighs, his flanks, to settle them on his hips, and pulled back, making him stumble and taking the decision away from him.

"What happened," he squeezed his eyes shut and gasped as a tongue licked his earlobe, "to subtle?"

"I got bored with subtle," Bodie replied, moving down his neck.

Sam forgot the yet to uncork bottle and whirled around, attacking his mouth fiercely. Bodie chuckled against his lips, but kissed back, steadying them when they stumbled a couple of steps back into the room.

Bodie grinned when they parted. "Easy, sunshine," he said and Sam was inordinately pleased that he was slightly panting. "You'd think you've never had sex."

"Not in a long time," Sam replied, resuming the kissing, which was more a wet mess of open mouths, tongues and saliva to be honest, he was aroused out of his mind nonetheless. "A very long time."

"I see."

He tugged at the black turtleneck Bodie was wearing, untucking it from his trousers, and ran his hands over the smooth chest, then around up his broad back. Big palms cupped his arse and squeezed, hard, making him gasp around the tongue invading his mouth. Bodie squeezed again and lifted, taking a step forward, sitting him on top of the table. It creaked and swayed ominously, but neither of them cared much, as Bodie stepped between his legs and started working on the buttons down his shirt.

Eventually, the kiss broke just enough for Sam to take off the turtleneck and toss the bloody thing away. Bodie re-emerged with a hungry smirk and hair pointing in every which way.

Sam was unbelievably hard now, his dick pushing against his trousers almost painfully, and when a hand cupped his erection, he moaned loudly and was just one moment away from coming in his pants.

"Well, well..." Bodie smirked against his mouth. "Look who's ready for action."

And Sam would have rolled his eyes at the cheap line, if he weren't busy trying to unbuckle his belt and open his fly as fast as humanly possible, and finally--finally--firm, calloused fingers closed around him, he moaned and in one, two, three strokes he was gone.

Bodie chuckled and Sam felt the soft rumble of his voice when he sagged against him. "A very long time indeed."

Bodie tugged him down the table, and he might have lost a moment or two in his post-orgasm stupidity, because the next thing he knew he was being pushed against the wall, his trousers under his arse now, making him stumble. His head hit the wall, Bodie pinning both of his wrists to the nasty-coloured wallpaper.

"Ow," he grimaced, but moaned when his mouth was attacked once again.

Bodie broke the kiss and looked down at him as if he'd just realized something, then he grinned widely. "You like it rough, don't you?"

Sam squirmed against his grip. "No!"

"Oh, yes," if it was even possible, Bodie's smirk grew. "You like it when he slams you against a wall, don't you?"

In a quick move he twisted his arm and turned him around, slamming him against the wall, his already bruised cheek hitting the hard surface. He tried to protest and free himself, but Bodie's whole weight was pinning him, his arm now trapped quite painfully between them.

"You like it when I slam you against the wall, don't you?" Bodie whispered against his ear, and he trembled. "You kinky sod."

A hand cupped his arse, fingers brushing over his hole and he panted, then the sound of a zipper and a hot, hard cock was pressing behind his bollocks. He moaned and forgot all about his aversion to wall-slamming.

"Have you got something?"

"I don't..." he tried to clear off his thoughts. "Vaseline in the bathroom, maybe. Or oil. In the kitchen," he gasped and leant his forehead against his hands, when Bodie let go of his arm and took a step back.

"Oil, then. It's closer," Bodie said and sneaked an arm around his chest to pinch one of his nipples, making him squeak like a girl.

God, he was about to be fucked against the wall in his dingy little flat by a man he'd barely met a few hours ago, a possible suspect at that. And possibly he'd never been more turned on in his life.

Apparently, 1973 made him very gay.

He had just managed to get rid of his trousers when Bodie was back, pushing him against the wall. And this time he went willingly, pressing his hands on either side of his head, resting his forehead against the wall, closing his eyes and trying to relax as a finger entered him.

He spread his legs, and maybe Bodie took that as an invitation, because pretty soon he was pushing inside him, before he was fully prepared or even ready. He tried to fight down the instinct to rebel to the entry and clenched his teeth against the slow burn.

"Relax, love," Bodie said into his ear, his tongue tracing the outer shell.

"Easy for you to--" he gasped as Bodie slipped in further. "S-say."

A mouth started licking and kissing from behind his ear down his neck. His shirt, still halfway buttoned, was pushed aside, down his arm and Bodie bit down, hard, thrusting up inside him at the same time. Sam cried out and arched back, his head resting on Bodie's shoulder.

"Bloody hell," he moaned, his voice trembling.

From that moment on, it was easier, if not really a smooth ride. Bodie thrusting into him and Sam trying to keep up with the irregular rhythm, but giving up soon enough, merely standing there and taking everything he could. Pretty soon, he was hard again, and his hand slipped down to stroke himself, but was batted away and replaced by on of Bodie's.

He was grunting against his shoulder now, really close, and with two final thrusts he sagged into him, panting behind his ear. Then he gave him a light slap on his arse and slipped out and away. Sam listened to the rustle of clothes behind him as he tried to catch his breath, but he didn't move from the wall, his legs still spread, his eyes closed.

Bodie was silent now, and when he looked over his shoulder to se what he was doing, he widened his eyes as he saw the other man calmly standing in the middle of the room, arms crossed over his chest, completely naked.

"Well?" he said. "That was just the first round."

Sam groaned softly and blinked, as he came slowly awake.

"Damn," a voice whispered above him.


Sam opened his eyes and frowned up at him, confused. Bodie was staring down at him, upside down. He was fully clothed now, even if he was quite sure they had fallen asleep naked.

And what was he doing?

"Sorry, Sam."

What the-

Sam made as if to sat up, but his arms were stretched above his head and Bodie was- Bodie was fucking tying him to the bed.

"What the fuck?!" he exclaimed and tugged at the belt--his belt--restraining his wrists.

"Well, not really that sorry, actually." Bodie said, giving one final pull to tighten the belt and stood up, walking around the bed.

"Untie me!" he yelled. "Bodie!"

"Can't do that, sorry," Bodie shook his head. "Like this you're a sight to behold, if that makes you feel better."

He glared. "No, it doesn't make me feel better!"

Bodie bent over him, patted his naked thigh and gave him a peck on his lips. "Thanks for the nice dinner," he said with a smirk.

"Fucking bastard!" he cried, lashing out with his foot.

Disappointingly, though, Bodie managed to dodge all of his kicks, then grabbed his ankle, trailing his hand up his calf, behind the knee and up the back of his thigh. "And the very nice after dinner."

Sam used his other leg and aimed for the head, but even that blow was parried and now he was laying virtually immobilized, his hands tied over his head and Bodie holding down his legs. He seethed, and his rage was only increased by the satisfied smirk on the fucker's face. Bodie leant forward, still gripping his legs, and he was folded in two, the almost exact replica of their position, just a few hours earlier.

The only difference was that if Bodie tried to kiss him now, he'd bite his bloody tongue off.

"I'm on leave, can't stay 'for a few days'," Bodie said, giving him another small kiss, on the nose this time.

"You killed him," Sam hissed.

"Bobby, you mean?" Bodie smirked. "Who knows?"

Abruptly he let go of him and stood up, grabbing his bag and opening the door.

"Bye, sunshine," Bodie said, lingering on the threshold. "It was a pleasure." He winked and left.

"You sodding bastard!"

Sam tugged furiously at the knot trying his wrists, but only succeeded in tightening the belt further. In the end, he just sighed and let his head fall back on the pillow, tears of shame and rage burning behind his eyes, but he refused to let them fall.

He should have known, how stupid could you possibly be?

Very, in his case.

He didn't know how much time had passed, but his phone had rang twice, and Sam was trying to brace himself for the humiliation that he knew was imminent.

He didn't have to wait much.

His door almost fell under the fierce knocking. "Tyler!" Gene bellowed. "You in there?! Are you cuffed to the bed again?"

Sam took a deep breath and fixed his gaze to the ceiling, mentally steadying himself.

The door burst inward and his Guv stumbled inside.

"Well," he said. "I was only joking."

"Just untie me."

Gene didn't turn around as he dressed himself, and Sam hated him for not granting him even that bit of dignity. He could feel his eyes travelling all over his skin, his back, taking in the love bites, the finger marks.

"What is it with you and your guests?" Gene exclaimed with a sneer. "Must be something in the water."

"I haven't slept with you, have I?" he retorted, his savage tone taking both of them by surprise.

In the car, the silence was deafening.

--THE END --

May 2007

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